Whitestorm Has Really Bad Luck
by nikkiandfranklin
Summary: Bluestar oversees Whitestorm's reincarnation and accidentally turns her nephew into a Twoleg teenager. When Whitestorm wakes up with no memories whatsoever of his cat life (and no idea what a fork is) he needs to depend on the help of a girl named Lily. He protects her, and she helps him remember. When faced with the choice, will he stay as a human or become a kit again?
1. Chapter 1: Everyone Hates Goosefeather

A blue-grey she-cat padded up quietly, her pelt flickering with stars. Her blue eyes were sad and happy at the same time.

"Are you ready, Whitestorm?" She purred softly, gazing at her nephew with love. Her sister and Whitestorm's mother, Snowfur, watched with wide, joyous eyes. Mosskit wreathed in between her mother's legs, peeking out to watch her older cousin every so often.

"Why does he get to get a new life and not me?" Mosskit squeaked. "Your time will come soon, my love." Bluestar reassured her daughter. Stonefur stood cautiously near his mother, his tail flicking to gently rest on his mother's back.

"If only Mistystar was here." Stonefur murmured, his gaze clouding as he thought of his sister, alive and well. Willowpelt watched with sorrow, and Brindleface also stood there, looking rather possessive of Whitestorm. Altogether, their five deceased children watched with wide eyes. Sootfur, Rainwhisker, and Sorreltail stood to one side, while Ashfur and Ferncloud watched from beside Brindleface. Their gazes all clung to their father. Whitestorm himself looked nervous and excited.

"Are you sure this will work?" He whispered to Bluestar for the fourth time that hour. He looked a bit kit-like, despite his middle age at the time he died.

"Um, mostly, yes." Bluestar mumbled. Snowfur narrowed her eyes.

"What's _that_ supposed to mean? It worked with Cinderpelt, did it not? And Lionheart? And… and…" She was running out of examples. Her white face looked depressed as she stepped closer to her son protectively.

"It's still in its working phase." Bluestar smiled weakly. "I'm afraid no promises can be made." Bluestar then turned to her daughter, Mosskit. "That's why we're waiting, Mosskit, for your reincarnation." Bluestar assured her daughter.

"Joy. I'm a test subject." Whitestorm mumbled. He looked even more dreadfully nervous. "Can we just get this over with?" He finally moaned. His fluffy white tail lashed. Bluestar nodded and stepped forward, resting her chin on top of her nephew's head. He closed his eyes and tensed his muscles, waiting bracingly. Bluestar began to mumble incoherent, ancient words, and Whitestorm began to feel very dizzy. Suddenly there was a blinding flash of light and Whitestorm disappeared. Bluestar blinked rapidly.

"Well?" Snowfur demanded. Her blue eyes were wide with intensity. Bluestar slowly turned around, wincing, her face beseeching.

"I think." Bluestar said slowly. "I just turned your son into a Twoleg." Bluestar confessed. Snowfur's wide, pretty eyes mirrored the rest of Whitestorm's kin: utter shock and bewilderment.

"My son!" Snowfur sobbed, wailing as she threw herself on the ground. Bluestar slumped onto the ground, her blue eyes defeated.

"I'm sorry, sis." She murmured into her sister's fur, but Snowfur threw her off. Mosskit started bouncing around.

"He's a Twoleg? That's so cool! Can I be a Twoleg? Wait, no, Twolegs are icky. CAN I BE A BADGER?" Mosskit giggled and squealed and this made her aunt cry harder.

"He'll be okay, I'm sure. Let's take this to Thunder and see if we can't work this out." Bluestar said weakly. She slowly lifted up her sister, Stonefur helping, and they proceeded to drag their inconsolable relative through the misty wood. Brindleface and Willowpelt exchanged unreadable expressions, and Whitestorm's children looked as if they were in shock.

"I brought juniper berries! In case the excitement is too much to handle!" Goosefeather trilled as he whisked into view, his wild blue eyes sparkling. He stopped as he saw the stony faces of his kin.

"Shut up, Goosefeather." Brindleface spat uncharacteristically. Then she broke down sobbing. Goosefeather looked alarmed.

"A little late to the party, am I?" He cautiously stepped forward. Willowpelt stumbled up to him.

"Y'know, maybe I will take some juniper berries." Whitestorm's mate said dully.

"Plenty more where this came from! Rainwhisker, Sorreltail? Sootfur, Ferncloud?" He said brightly. They all shook their heads in synchronization.

"Hey, why don't I get offered any?" Ashfur cried indignantly. Goosefeather turned to face Ashfur, his eyes suddenly dark and foreboding.

"Because you're evil." Goosefeather spat, and promptly whisked away, Willowpelt crying in protest as he took the berries with him.


	2. Chapter 2: Lily Gets A Surprise

Whitestorm groaned as his head was filled his pain. He opened his eyes and found himself flat on his back on a well-manicured lawn with some flowering trees. He sat up abruptly, trying to remember why he was there. Nothing. All he knew was that his name was Whitestorm and he was utterly and completely lost. He lifted a hand to his face and tested his fingers, curling them up in fascination. He heard a noise and saw a Twoleg girl, not a child but not a fully-grown either.

"Hello!" Whitestorm said brightly in greeting, standing up on shaky legs.

"Augh! Oh! God!" The girl cried, shielding her hand in front of her face.

"Don't tell me I'm really that ugly." Whitestorm joked.

"God, can't you put some clothes on? Do you just lay around naked in people's lawns a lot?" The girl shrieked, still covering her eyes.

"Depends. What are clothes?" Whitestorm asked innocently, his yellow eyes bright.

"These!" The girl resisted a bubble of hysteria and grabbed madly at the front of her shirt.

"Those pelts you wear? Whatever for? Sun protection?" Whitestorm looked confused.

"I'll go get you some of my brother's clothes. Wait here." The girl ran back, and Whitestorm sat down, looking at the Twoleg den she was disappearing into. He looked down at himself and realized he was tall and had two legs, just like her. Why, he must be a Twoleg! The girl came back out, holding a roll of pelts in her hands. She thrust them at Whitestorm, still shielding her eyes. He took them at stared at them, shaking them out. He glanced at the girl and back at the pelt he assumed went over the torso. He tried pulling it over his head and succeeded, surprisingly. The pelt was a little big for his skinny frame, but it would do. He grabbed at the other pelt, a rectangular pelt with two long flaps at the end. Hmm… He looked back at the girl. Oh, yes. He shoved his legs down into the flaps and hiked it up so it stopped at his waist. The girl took a cautious look at him through her hands and dropped them.

"Good." She looked relieved. She gave him a long look. He had very pale skin, almost snow-white, and hair that matched but could pass for really bleached blonde. His eyes, however, were a stunning golden-yellow. "Do you wear contacts?" She asked timidly.

"Huh?" He tilted his head.

"Never mind. Are you homeless or something?" She asked.

"I don't think so." He pondered that. "I actually don't remember much of anything." He finally said, still smiling. The girl frowned.

"Well, you could crash at my place until you remember stuff. So, random-stranger-who-sleeps-in-my-backyard, what's your name?" She asked.

"I'm Whitestorm" He said brightly, holding out a very pale white hand. The girl cautiously shook.

"Yeah, we'll tell my parents your name is John or something. John Whitestorm." She said after a pause. "And you're like, some tribal exchange person." She said, eyeing his strange yellow eyes and his scruffy pale hair, along with the fact that his shirt was inside out and his jeans were put on backwards.

"Oh, a tribe? Like the Tribe of Rushing Water? I'm good friends with them, you see." Whitestorm chirped, suddenly remembering.

"Sure, something like that." The girl said slowly. "How old are you, Whitestorm?" She asked him.

"I'm not sure." He said, puzzled. She shrugged.

"You look about the same age as me, I s'pose. Anyway, are you hungry?" She asked. "My parents are making dinner right now." She added.

"I think I'm hungry, yes." He said. His stomach let out a sad-sounding whimper, and Lily laughed in relief.

"Ok, c'mon. Remember, your name is John Whitestorm and you're an exchange student at my school." She flicked a strand of light brown hair from her eyes. Whitestorm nodded, even though he didn't know what a school was. Lily led him into her house and through the den-opening, where two fully-grown Twolegs were standing at boxy shiny silver appliances and messing with some smelly brightly colored objects.

"Mom, this is John Whitestorm. He's a new kid at our school, and he was from some strange tribe before they relocated him with a foster family." She said. She leaned closer to her parents and whispered, "He's also not very civilized." She winced and quickly glanced back at Whitestorm, but he was studying a framed painting that hung on the wall.

"Berry juice." He was mumbling, tracing a finger along the raspberry-colored paint.

"Is it okay if he stays with us for a while? His foster family is pretty awful." Lily pleaded. Her mom closed her eyes and sighed.

"Honey, you can't take in every stray you find. We already have two turtles, a cat that lives in the barn, and three baby bunnies." Her mother said quietly.

"He is not an _animal,_ mom!" She said, but as her mom looked over all she saw was Whitestorm licking at a spot of dirt on his hand.

"John, you use a towel for that." Lily said hastily, guiding the pale-skinned boy over to the sink and turning the water on for him. He stared at the water, before his tongue slowly poked out and he lowered his head…

"No, Whitestor-John!" She said hastily, pulling him back. She grabbed the towel, wetted it, and wiped the dirt off his hand like he was a child. Her cheeks rose with color as her mom slowly shook her head.

"Do you like green bean casserole, John?" Her mother finally asked, looking rather tired.

"Never had it before." Whitestorm said brightly. "I do enjoy mice, though." He smiled warmly.

"He's kidding." Lily said hastily, and Whitestorm looked bewildered, his mouth opening to rebuke her statement.

"How about we go upstairs and wait for dinner, _John?_ Hmm?" Lily grinned forcedly and shoved him over to the stairs landing. He looked at the stairs, then back at Lily.

"Oh, for God's sake." She moaned.


	3. Chapter 3: A Wrinkle In Reincarnation

She slowly shut her door behind them, breathing a sigh of relief at the absence of her parents.

"What's this color? It looks like foxglove." He was brushing his hand along her walls, which were a rosy purple/pink from when she was eleven.

"Oh, that? It's like a pink." She said absently, looking at her room through the eyes of a stranger. There was her small white desk in the corner, stacked messily with notebooks and small relics from her childhood. She saw a pile of clothes on the carpeted floor and self-consciously kicked it out of view and into her closet. A corkboard was stuffed with paintings and photos and birthday cards, and was next to a poster of kittens wearing headphones. Her bed took up most of the rather small room, with a simple white headboard and a black and white polka-dotted bedspread. Her closet was boxy, like a tiny elevator, and was sparsely filled with a rainbow of clothes (t-shirts and jeans, mostly.) She had a small white nightstand with a black and white polka-dotted lamp to match the bedspread, and a clear vase of giant fake purple flowers. Above her bed was a fading Divergent poster and to the other side of the bed was a ruched purple beanbag, on which a fat Pillow Pet and an entire book shelf's worth of library books (mostly novels, some Calvin and Hobbes) were piled.

"What's this for?" He asked, studying the bed and punching it a few times, looking quite surprised at its plushness.

"It's a bed. You sleep on it." She said hastily.

"Like a nest?" He asked, nodding.

"Sure." She said, looking a little puzzled. "You can sleep on the trundle." Lily said, pulling out the trundle from underneath her mattress. He went over and sat on it, frowning.

"It's like moss, a little. Only lots of it." He ran a hand down the bare sheets, a faded floral pattern in hues of blue and yellow.

"You slept on moss?" Lily asked, surprised. She had earlier resolved not to ask him much of his past life, one because of the fact he couldn't remember anything, and two because it had ended him up as an amnesiac sleeping naked in a stranger's backyard. Not the best life story, now was it?

"I must've." He said. He looked a little uncomfortable, suddenly, as he spoke. "Your parents… they don't like me?" He asked, his yellow eyes looking a little hurt.

"They're just getting used to the fact that you're different." Lily said gingerly, sitting down beside him on the mattress. He nodded and lapsed into silence, his head tilted up at the ceiling where a clump of glow and the dark stars were pasted next to her ceiling fan (white with fancy fringe.)

"Whitestorm." Lily started, and he looked over, his pale eyebrows shooting up, "Do you know how to read and write?" She asked. He tilted his head, his eyes narrowing as he thought.

"I don't think I know what that is." He said. Her heart sunk. A tiny little part of her hoped he could come to school with her. Now that she thought of it, he wouldn't last a minute. He'd be as bullied as she was. Worse, even. She shuddered just imagining it. "I could try." He offered, seeing her disappointed expression. She shot, grabbing a thin novel from the beanbag depository.

"A Wrinkle In Time." She said, shoving it into his hands. "One of my favorites." She added, as he ran a hand along the book and cracked it open, the thin pages leafing in the wind coming from her open window. He studied the tiny black words, his eyes lighting.

"'Thinking I'm a moron gives people something to feel smug about,' Charles Wallace said. 'Why should I disillusion them?'" Whitestorm read, and then looked delighted.

"You can read!" Lily cheered. Some part of her awoke as he read that. _That quote, it's perfect for him, in a way._ She shivered and then felt bad about basically calling him a moron. He was just different and he didn't know any better.

"Do you know where you learned to read?" She prompted him.

"No. I actually don't think anyone taught me." He looked puzzled again.

"Can you write something for me?" Lily asked hastily, eager to take his mind off things. She jumped up, grabbing a piece of notebook paper from her favorite Five-Star one with the all-black cover and thick metal binding. He nodded, and she handed him a #2 pencil. He put the paper on his knee, sitting cross-legged, and slowly wrote _I can't remember._ She was delighted to see he could also write and had correct punctuation and spelling, but she was sad when she contemplated what he had written. He stared at the words, and then slowly crumpled up the paper. "Whitestorm, how would you feel about going to school with me tomorrow?" She asked, staring at him attentively. Some part of her thought about the look on other people's faces when she brought this foreign, wolf-eyed boy to school, his hand in hers. Her cheeks flooded with color when she realized she might already have a tiny crush on him.

"Are you sick? Your face is red." Whitestorm asked in concern, breaking her out of her thoughts.

"H-huh?" She stammered, unable to look him in the eye.

"Nothing. I said yes, by the way." He looked amused.

"Good." She smiled, feeling the blush getting even redder. Whitestorm grinned lopsidedly.

"You have to tell me what school is first, though." He laughed, and his laugh was like the wind chimes at her grandmother's house in a windstorm.

"Of course." They sat cross-legged on her mattress as Lily explained animatedly about what school was, and they stopped when they were called down to eat.

"What if I do something awful in front of your parents?" He asked worriedly. _Yeah, what if he does?_ She thought.

"I'm sure you'll be fine." She said, half reassuring herself.


	4. Chapter 4: This Is A Fork

They all sat at the dinner table as the food was served, the silence thickening by the second. Pretty soon, Whitestorm felt, it would be like drowning in quicksand. Lily's older brother was over at his friend's house and her father had come home from work, so it was the four of them all sitting at an end of the square-ish table.

"So," Lily's father cleared his throat as a glop of casserole was served onto his plate by a nervous-looking Mrs. Marake.

"You a smart kid?" He asked Whitestorm. Whitestorm's head snapped up, and his eyes widened as he fished for an answer.

"I'm a very quick learner when it comes to fighting and hunting." He answered truthfully. Mr. Marake nodded and frowned a little, contemplating that.

"So, John, how long will you be staying?" Mrs. Marake asked in her quiet voice, looking as if she was internally praying it would only be a sunrises.

"I don't know, ma'am." He answered politely. That was trick a Lily taught him on their slow journey down the stairs (he had managed to only trip twice that time.) _Politeness,_ Lily had said _, is the key to looking more… human._ She also told him to use a napkin to wipe food from his face or hands, not his tongue. The family started to dig in their food, and Whitestorm realized with alarm they were using these strange metal contraptions. It looked like a weapon; long and skinny with a widened end that had several prongs. He watched Mr. Marake eat with a very intense gaze, but when the man looked up Whitestorm had to look away. He could tell he made them nervous, and he felt bad about that. He just couldn't imagine learning all the ways of a Twoleg. He grasped the spear-thingy by its end, wrapping his hand around it like one might hold the end of an ice cream cone.

He then stabbed a chunk of the casserole, so hard it made the table shake and made Mr. and Mrs. Marake jump in their seats. "Sorry." Whitestorm muttered, dropping the spear-thingy onto his 'napkin' Lily had also taught him manners: when asking for something say please, say thank you when you receive something, and when you make a disturbance you say excuse me and sorry. It was all very confusing, and Whitestorm was so nervous to make a mistake that he almost didn't want to eat at all. However, he was immensely hungry and couldn't hold off much longer.

When no one was watching him, he took a small piece of the casserole in his fingers and dropped it into his open mouth. He chewed for a while and then cringed. He couldn't help it. "Oh, Starclan!" Whitestorm spat out a green bean. "These taste like herbs! Why would you eat them on purpose?" He stared at the regurgitated green pile of mush. Lily's mom cringed.

"Herbs?" Her father asked tentatively.

"Oh, yes! We use them to cure ailments, back at home." Whitestorm smiled, glad to remember this tidbit of information. Lily's mom looked sick. Lily herself was shaking her head slowly and closing her eyes. It made Whitestorm suddenly disappointed in himself, although he didn't know why, and he slid further down in his chair. "I'm very sorry." He felt something prick in his eyes. Tears. He got up quickly, nearly knocking his chair over, and muttered a squeaky "Excuse me." He ran over to the den-opening and threw it open, closing it behind him as he fell on his knees in the backyard.

He sobbed quietly, curling up his knees close to his chest and wrapping his arms around them. He buried his face in the leg-pelts, ashamed to show his face. He cried hard and he wasn't even really crying about the casserole. He was broken, he felt, something was wrong with him. He couldn't remember anything about his past and everyone thought he was stupid. _I'm not stupid. I just haven't learned anything yet._ His shoulders shook and he hastily wiped at the tears that stained his china glass-white face as he heard the den-opening creak open behind him.

"Whitestorm?" Lily asked softly, falling beside him. Her large amber eyes were sad with sympathy, and she threw an arm around his shoulder. "You don't have to go to school if you don't want to. I'm sorry if I made it seem like I was forcing you." She murmured into his shoulder, burying her face into his neck. Whitestorm shook his head but was unable to speak his mind, his brain was aching and his throat had tightened considerably. "C'mon, maybe you're just tired. Everything'll look better in the morning." She said. He stood up, nodding, and wiped at the snot that had run from his nose, mixing with the tears. She smiled sadly, and took his hand as they walked quietly into the den.

Her parents had gone, but Whitestorm could hear voices in the room upstairs. They sounded exasperated if not a little angry. Whitestorm's shoulders drooped in shame. "Go on upstairs, feel free to take the blankets from my bed. I'm going to grab some more from the hallway closet." Lily said. Whitestorm nodded, wondering what a closet was, and then slowly made his way up the stairs, not tripping at all. He slid through Lily's den-opening and sat down on the fuzzy-ground, where the grass was short and an off-white, like the color of melting snow. He grabbed a 'book' from the foxglove-colored pelt that was shaped like the top of a mushroom and had little ripples on it like waves in water. He ran his fingers over the raised title.

He opened it slowly and began to read, but didn't really process the words. He suddenly grew very tired as the day's events caught up to him, and he grabbed some of the grass-covered pelts from Lily's nest. They were extremely soft and he was amazed at how much more comfortable they were than moss. He quickly fell asleep, and Lily opened the door to find him on the ground curled up on top of the blankets like a cat.


	5. Chapter 5: Can I Use Your Dirtplace?

Lily yawned as she stirred slightly from under her mass of blankets, blinking her eyelids open to the sunlight streaming in through her window.

"Nhhh…" She lay there for a moment, remembering last night's events. "Whitestorm?" She called sleepily, seeing he wasn't in his nest of blankets on the floor.

"Whatever is the purpose of this thing?" She heard Whitestorm and saw him come out of the tiny bathroom attached to her bedroom. The door was next to her closet, and Whitestorm was leaning in the doorway, holding her toothbrush with a quizzical expression.

"It's a toothbrush." Lily mumbled, sitting up and hoisting herself out of bed.

"A _toothbrush?_ Wow. I had no idea." He stared at the toothbrush for a few seconds.

"We gotta get ready for school if you're going, Whitestorm." Lily said, already rummaging in her closet.

"Ok. What do I do to 'get ready'?" Whitestorm asked as she pulled out a pair of jean capris and a t-shirt that said _Coca Cola._

"Put some new clothes on. Brush your hair. Eat breakfast." Lily said, walking past Whitestorm and into the small bathroom.

"I have to go." Whitestorm suddenly said, plaintively.

"Go where?" Lily frowned.

"Y'know, _pee?_ Where's your dirtplace?" The expression on his face was so serious that Lily burst out laughing.

"We don't have a 'dirtplace.' We use a toilet." She pointed to the white ceramic toilet. Whitestorm frowned. Lily sighed. She lifted the lid and pointed into the bowl.

"You go there, and then you press the lever and _poof_ it's gone." She gestured by flushing the toilet. "And then you wash your hands by using this soap," she gestured by pumping the soap dispenser and a little blob of pink gel squirted into her hands. "And then you turn on the faucet to rinse the soap off. But you got like, rub the soap in. Then you dry it on a towel." She did as she instructed Whitestorm. He nodded sagely, his wide golden eyes taking it all in. "I'll give you some privacy." She hastily exited the bathroom and closed the door behind her. She quickly pulled on her clothes, and grabbed her hairbrush from her nightstand. " _Yeah we'll be counting stars."_ She sang quietly as she ran the brush haphazardly through the waves of her hair.

"You have a pretty voice." Whitestorm said as he opened the bathroom door. He held up his hands that still had some specks of water clinging to the palms. She gave him a sheepish smile.

"Thanks." She willed herself not to blush again. She knew Whitestorm probably didn't even know the definition of _flirting,_ so he was most likely being totally sincere. It was nice to get an actual opinion from someone without any sugarcoating. It was quite refreshing. She went into the bathroom and washed her face, checking for any more godforsaken acne. Whitestorm stared at her the whole time, and she felt weird inspecting her own face when someone was watching. "C'mon, we can raid my brother's room for more clothes." Lily pulled him with her, nervously fingering her hair as she padded along the hallway, her bare feet squeaking against the floorboards. "Zachary, open up." She called, pounding on his door. He opened it with a bedraggled look, still wearing his PJs. His eyes widened and cleared as he saw Whitestorm.

"Woah, man. Who is that creepy dude?" He pointed at Whitestorm, who had taken to clinging to Lily's elbow.

"He's an exchange student. He'll be staying with us until he, um, gets back on his feet. John, this is Zach. Vice versa." She said perkily.

"He's sleeping in your _room?"_ Zachary scoffed.

"Mmmhmm." Lily smiled, looking a little confused.

"Well, that's one way to get a boyfriend." Zachary snorted. Lily's face fell and an angry look clouded her normally gentle eyes.

"It's not like that." Whitestorm said calmly. He didn't know what 'like that' meant, but if it would make Lily happy again then he would say anything.

"Whatever." Zachary snorted. "What d'ya want?" He crossed his arms, his messy brown hair falling in front of his eyes.

"Wh-John needs to borrow some of your clothes." She almost called him Whitestorm again, but she caught herself. Zachary frowned, not moving. "C'mon, I let you borrow that money for the tie and you never paid me back." Lily begged. He rolled his brown eyes dramatically and stepped aside, throwing his hands in the air. "Next time, I'll get a search warrant." Lily promised dryly. Zachary made a noise that sounded like a mix between a laugh and something angry. His younger sister took no heed but began tossing things from Zachary's closet. Whitestorm stood there stiffly, pantomiming a scarecrow with ease.

"You do any sports, John?" Zachary asked him in his loose voice, fingering a mini rubber basketball amongst the scattered items on top of his dresser.

"Um, no. I guess I run, though." He thought he did, but he couldn't remember. Zachary immediately became disinterested.

"Running's for girls, man." He declared, and Whitestorm shrugged.

"I can fight, too." He said, determined to be on good terms with at least two of the members of the Malarke family, Lily included.

"Oh, really? Like boxing, or what? Please don't say karate." Zachary groaned. Whitestorm wondered what karate was.

"No, like…" He huffed in frustration. Whitestorm didn't know how to describe it.

"D'ja street fight, man?" Zachary's eyes widened.

"Yeah, sure." He had to say yes to something or Zachary would never leave him alone.

"That is so cool." Zachary whistled low.

"Got some stuff!" Lily declared, and Zachary's eyes flitted back to his sister, who held a tall stack of clothing. As they walked out of the room, Zachary gave Whitestorm a thumbs up and a wink. Whitestorm didn't know what that meant so he just smiled.

"He seems pretty cool with you. What'd you say?" Lily asked Whitestorm as she started to fold the jumble of fabric.

"I told him I'm a good street fighter." Whitestorm said, feeling slightly uncomfortable.

"Really? Now he probably thinks you're this bad-boy gangster person." Lily laughed sharply.

"It's true, though." Whitestorm murmured. "I do fight." He avoided her gaze as Lily stared back in astonishment.

"Oh, your tribe. Right." Lily's brow furrowed.

"I just know I used to. I don't know why, though." Whitestorm sighed. "Hey, I'm sure you'll find out soon enough. Now put these on." She threw him pants, a t-shirt, and some underwear. Lily's mom called from downstairs.

"You ready for school, honey?"


	6. Chapter 6: It Is So Nice To Meet You

The car ride to school was mostly silent, consisting of shared looks between Lily and Whitestorm and a tight-lipped Mrs. Malarke.

The only thing she said was, "I called the office to let them know John was coming." Whitestorm had a backpack that used to be Zachary's clutched in his arms, and a curious look in his eyes as he stared out the window from the back seat. Lily watched the wonder in his eyes as he took in everything, and she decided she would take him to a mall to go people-watching sometime. When the car finally stopped Lily took her time opening the passenger side door, looking at the school with a dull foreboding in her eyes. Whitestorm hopped out, too, after some exasperated instruction from Mrs. Malarke on how to use a car door handle.

"So, this is school." Whitestorm stared at the hulking brick building, and the flagpole with no flag.

"It gets worse." Lily promised him grimly, hiking her sagging backpack further up her shoulders.

"At least you have school." Whitestorm pointed out. His yellow eyes were somber, and his freakishly pale shock of hair looked messy as it was illuminated by the fluorescent lights when they entered the building.

"Don't make me feel guilty." Lily moaned, "I like complaining." She caught his gaze to let her know she was joking, and he smiled tentatively. "Remember the tips I gave you at breakfast, Whitestorm. Follow those and you'll be fine." _Maybe even better than me. The fact that he's cute and athletic doesn't hurt anything,_ she thought sourly. The suddenly vulnerable look on his face made her heart soften. "Hey, you'll be fine. Just be your- actually, no. Be—goofy. Just not too goofy." She fretted, her face contorted in a strange mix of a frown and a bored look.

"I _will_ be fine. Don't you worry. It can't be worse than what I've already been through, can it?" He smiled, but his face fell slowly as Lily didn't answer.

"It can get worse, Whitestorm." She said softly. He gave her a puzzled look but she had already pulled ahead, not looking at him. He caught up to her.

"Wait, what do you _mean_ 'it can get worse'?" He said pleadingly, her yellow eyes large.

"Not now, _John."_ She said forcedly, jerking her head to indicate a person passing by, giving the two strange looks.

"Fine." He sighed softly.

"We got… four classes together, out of eight. Plus lunch." Lily said, as she had stolen Whitestorm's schedule from his bag.

"What about first period?" He asked, leaning over.

"Yup, we have Language Arts together." Lily confirmed, as they entered the ninth grade wing.

"Great!" He grinned. She led him past a row of lockers. "What _are_ these? A bunch of closets?" After breakfast, Lily had led him on a guided tour of the house, pointing out what each room meant and what appliances were in it.

"Not exactly. They hold your backpack and everything you don't need to carry with you." She explained. He nodded, and they slowed to a stop. "246. This is your locker. Mine's across from yours," She pointed to the opposite side of the hallway, "So if you need me you can slip a note through or something." She nodded affirmatively, and looked at Whitestorm again. "What's your combo?" She asked him. He frowned and read it out loud.

"5-36-18." He announced. She nodded and spun it with surprising speed, and the locker clicked open.

"I'll teach you how to do that sometime, but for now we gotta get to class. I need to introduce you to our teachers." Lily said, grabbing Whitestorm's backpack from him and placing it neatly over the hook on the roof of the locker. "Grab your notebooks and your textbooks, and we'll go meet Mr. Flanguelli." Lily ordered, standing beside Whitestorm as he fished awkwardly through the backpack.

"Hey, look, Nerdy's got a boyfriend." A voice jeered, and Lily's face flamed a bright crimson. She didn't turn around though, but her grasp on the locker door got tighter and the tips of her fingers turned white. Whitestorm whipped around, recognizing Nerdy as an insult by the look on Lily's face. Two gangly boys, with identical red hair and hazel eyes, stood in the middle of the hallway, sneering.

"Hey, I'm John." Whitestorm said coolly, a dangerous smile on his face as he held out his hand. One boy cautiously shook, and when their hands grasped each other's Whitestorm crushed it hard so the boy yelped in pain, but Whitestorm didn't let go. "It is _so_ nice to meet you." The yellow eyed-boy said with deadpan. The boy nearly whimpered, his eyes watering. Whitestorm finally let go, still smiling, and waved a pleasant goodbye. The two boys skittered down the hallway, staring over their shoulder at Whitestorm with bugged-out eyes.

"You didn't have to do that. You'll just cause trouble." Lily said softly, her hair hiding half of her face as she stood limply near Whitestorm's locker door.

"No one messes with my friends and gets away with it." He studied her face, but she didn't meet his gaze. "Do these kids mess with you every day?" He asked her. She didn't respond, her amber eyes dark and miserable.

"Not just them. The whole school." She whispered, and sniffled loudly as she held back tears.

"Lily." Whitestorm sighed and embraced her in a stifling hug. Lily buried her face into Whitestorm's broad shoulder and cried softly.

"We should get to class. I'm wasting your time. You should've met the teacher by now." Lily sniffled, blinking back the tears in her eyes and wiping them with the back of her wrist.

"I'm not wasting my time." Whitestorm said, amused. "Any time spent with a friend is never wasted." He squeezed her hand and gave her a reassuring smile. She smiled back, weakly, and they walked together down the hallway to the Language Arts room.

"Is my face red, do I look okay?" Lily asked him in a hushed whisper as they stopped out the doorway.

"You look perfect, Lily. You always do." He smiled.


	7. Chapter 7: Great, More Dirty Dishes!

After five long and stressful class periods, it was finally 12:30. Lily anxiously waited for Whitestorm, her head ducked low so she wouldn't meet anyone else's eyes. Finally, she saw the old sneakers that Zachary used to own, belonging to none other but a bright-eyed Whitestorm. She looked up, smiling in relief.

"Whew, I had no idea school was so hard!" Whitestorm grinned, standing beside her.

"Why, did someone tease you?" Lily fretted, concerned. Whitestorm's brow furrowed.

"No…. It's just the assignments are hard." He explained.

"You didn't do anything wrong, though, did you?" Lily asked him, staring up at him with wide eyes.

"Just a few slip-ups. Nothing major, though." Whitestorm said, and nodded at a freckled kid who passed by with a friendly wave.

"Make some new friends, I see?" Lily commented casually, but inside was a little jealous. She couldn't make any friends in three years, and he could make a few easily in a couple of hours.

"Oh, just some people I chatted with. They have most of the class periods that I do, and their last names start with W so I sit with them." He smiled. Lily groaned.

"Yeah, I can't believe they still arrange our seats by alphabetical order. I mean, what is this? Third grade?" Lily scoffed. Whitestorm gave her a blank look. "This is ninth grade." She said slowly.

"Oh, right. Right." He said quickly, pursing his lips together.

"Hey, you're doing fine." She nudged his shoulder. "C'mon, let's go get lunch." He nodded and brightened up.

"Using my brain makes me hungry." He chirped. His snowy eyebrows shot up, and he smiled. Lily giggled.

"You'll find that happens sometimes." She twisted her long brown hair over her shoulder, and they joined the long line waiting for some fake-looking lasagna roll-ups. Their togetherness caused many raised eyebrows and whispers, but most of them were really staring at Whitestorm himself. His yellow eyes and his freakishly pale hair were quite interesting to look at.

"What's a boyfriend?" Whitestorm asked after a comfortable moment of silence. To Lily's bewildered look, he said, "The mean guy at the locker, who's hand I might've squished. He said you have a 'boyfriend.'" Whitestorm said, his yellow eyes solemn.

"Oh, right. Well, when two people like each other, they go out on dates. Dates are when people take each other somewhere nice, like out to dinner or to watch a movie. A movie's a moving picture." She explained to Whitestorm's furrowed brow.

"Oh. So when they go out, they're boyfriends?" He asked. Lily laughed.

"No, the boy is a boyfriend and the girl is their girlfriend." She explained. "The same goes for anybody else. People can be girlfriends, or boyfriends, or girlfriend and boyfriend." He nodded slowly.

"At home when people like each other they become mates." He said softly.

"Mates? Like wolves?" Lily asked, surprised. Whitestorm shrugged.

"Don't know much about wolves." He frowned. They moved up in the line and Lily handed him a fork and a spoon, along with a paper-thin napkin. "Oh, this again." He held up the fork, scowling at it.

"That's a fork." She explained. "And this is a spoon." She pointed to each one.

"Oh, right." Whitestorm caught a few bewildered stares from other kids as Lily patiently explained to him the significance of cutlery. Whitestorm felt the tips of his ears get hot. "They all think I'm an idiot." Whitestorm mumbled.

"Who cares what they think?" Lily snorted. She didn't meet his confused gaze.

"You're the one who do-" He started to say, but Lily cut him off.

"I might not care, but they care, ok? That's why they pick on me. I just want to avoid it all." She roughly jerked out a fork that had gotten stuck and the whole plastic container spilled, the silverware falling around their ankles. Whitestorm kneeled down and immediately began to pick them up, ignoring the titters of laughter it brought. Lily stood there, momentarily paralyzed, before also bending down to sweep up the forks. The lunch ladies scowled at them.

"Great, more dirty dishes!" A graying-haired lady snapped, grabbing the container once they had put them all back.

"Sorry." Whitestorm flashed a brilliant, yellow-eyed grin. The lady looked quite frightened.

"Dude, your teeth are sharp." Lily gasped with concern and amusement. He stopped grinning and felt his teeth.

"Eh. Maybe that's what happens when I don't use a brushtooth, or whatever it's called." Whitestorm waved a hand dismissively. Lily smiled weakly but continued to stare at his mouth, noticing his lips and—she quickly tore her gaze away and dropped it to the tray she had picked up from a lukewarm stack to her right. Whitestorm copied her, grabbing a tray and staring at it with a hard look in his eyes.

"You 'kay?" Lily lightly touched his shoulder and he jumped, his eyes widening.

"Huh? Oh, yeah. Just contemplating my past." He plastered a fake smile on his face and watched as the same graying-haired lady scooped an unappetizing lump of pasta onto his tray. Lily punched her numbers in and when Whitestorm looked confused, she told the lunch lady to count it twice.

"That's how we pay for our meals." Lily explained, leading him through the cafeteria.

"Oh. Wait- what do you mean by pay?" He tilted his head.

"Oh, good lord." Lily breathed out a melodramatic sigh and they took a seat at a deserted lunch table. "Um, well. We pay in money. Money is what we earn by doing jobs. Money is used to pay for food and clothes and basically everything." Lily thought about how to explain currency.

"Hey." The freckled kid that had waved to Whitestorm earlier stood next to the table, his tray hovering indecisively.

"Hey, Luke. Feel free to sit." Whitestorm smiled, patting the seat next to him. Lily watched in astonishment as two more kids, a mousy-looking girl and a boy with large glasses, joined them at the table. Whitestorm acted as if nothing had just happened, but chattered away happily with them. Lily smiled slowly. Maybe happening upon Whitestorm in her yard was one of the best things in her life. For the first time in years, she had a friend, and maybe more.


	8. Chapter 8: So That's The Way You Play

Lily frowned as they left the school, scrolling through a text message from her mom.

"Great, my mom's late because she has charts to do at work, so we have to walk home." She sighed.

"No biggie. It's only a couple of miles." Whitestorm said enthusiastically.

"Why are you so darn happy about everything?" Lily groaned, dropping her head into her hands.

"Why should I be sad? That does nothing for anyone but give people headaches." Whitestorm said matter-of-factly. Lily stared at him as they walked and shook her head slowly.

"I think you're crazy. It's impossible to make yourself happy." Lily retorted. She herself was in a good mood because everyone had left her alone for the day. Whitestorm was like her personal bodyguard.

"Is it, Lily? Is it?" Whitestorm pressed.

"Not the double question!" Lily stifled a smile.

"So what is this?" Whitestorm grabbed her phone from her, examining it.

"I have absolutely no idea what to tell you." Lily said honestly.

"A mystery machine? I like that." Whitestorm snorted, tapping the screen. "Oh, cool! It, like, responds to my touch!" He looked so delighted that Lily had to tease him.

"You sound like the first person ever to invent a touch screen phone." She cracked.

"This is a phone? What's a touch screen?" He inquired.

"Y'know what? I'll answer that some other day. Let's just enjoy this walk." Lily grabbed her phone back and pocketed it. They lapsed into silence, Whitestorm staring intensely at passerby. He always seemed to shock people when they got a good look at him, and Lily laughed. It felt good to laugh like that. Never in a long time had she smiled so much. "Hey- wait- what's that noise?" Lily stopped, turning around quickly. She had heard a rustle of footsteps, but they were currently walking through a deserted parking lot.

"Maybe you're just imagining it." Whitestorm offered. Lily looked at him.

"Not helping." She looked around, before deciding maybe she was just imagining it. "Whitestorm, are you a werewolf?" Lily asked. Whitestorm tilted his head.

"What's that? What's all this stuff about wolves?" He looked confused.

"Well, because you only eat meat, and when I found you, you were, um, not decent, you have yellow eyes, you have sharp teeth, you have weirdly colored hair-"

"Hey, I like my hair!" He objected.

"-you make references to everything as a plant." She finished.

"Maybe I am. I don't think so." He sighed. Lily gave him a sympathetic look.

"It's impossible, I'm just being silly. I read too much for my own good. It's just some funny coincidences, that's all." Lily said casually.

"Plus, I have a weird name." Whitestorm said out of the blue.

"I beg your pardon?" Lily looked at Whitestorm.

"You forgot to mention that." He pointed out. "Also, there's the fact that we have mates and we sleep on moss." He smiled.

"Right." Lily nodded slowly. "Hang on, there it is again." Sure enough, footsteps were heard and then were quickly muted.

"Someone's there. I think they're following us." Whitestorm growled, his yellow eyes flashing. Lily clung to Whitestorm's arm, her eyes wide. "Who's there?" Whitestorm called out bravely. There was no answer. Of course there wasn't.

"Probably just some homeless guy." Lily swallowed hard. Whitestorm shrugged, not asking what homeless meant because he didn't want to bother her again. They continued walking again, but this time the sound of footsteps was unmistakable. They whipped around in synchronization, and gasped in shock. About five boys stood behind them, including the red-headed twins that Whitestorm had attacked. "Oh, God." Lily whimpered.

"Get behind me." He whispered to Lily, and she quickly obeyed. "What do you want?" Whitestorm growled.

"Revenge. And a way to get rid of you." One of the twins, the one with the freshly-bruised hand, replied.

"Sounds fun." Whitestorm smiled, baring his canine-like teeth. He launched himself at the red-haired boy, his pale white hands grabbing at his throat as he dug his fingernails in the boy's skin and gouged his face. The boy shrieked and the other four boys fell upon Whitestorm like vultures to a carcass. "Run, Lily! I mean it! I can handle them." Whitestorm called, his voice strong and clear even through the melee. Lily stayed frozen for a second before taking his advice, not looking back when she heard a scream that she hoped wasn't Whitestorm's. Whitestorm had taken to kicking all of them back, and when they came back he raked their faces with sharp fingernails and fast punches to the gut. He had one boy pinned, his pale hands wrapped around his throat. The boy's eyes bulged and he gasped for mercy. Whitestorm let him go, but knocked him unconscious with a fierce punch to the face. He turned around, throwing another one off with a lunge backwards, crushing him beneath his stocky frame. He rolled back over, placing a well-aimed kick to the red-haired boy's ribs. The boy groaned and fell onto the ground, and Whitestorm kicked him hard in the face. _Two down, two to go._ Suddenly he saw a flash of silver in his peripheral vision. He turned around, throwing a punch in the boy's direction so he had to duck, and pinned him down while he couldn't see. He clawed at the boy's cheek, and then punched his stomach. The boy fell unconscious and Whitestorm turned around, looking for the last boy. The red-haired twin. He frowned when he couldn't find him anywhere, and felt a horrible sensation that something was about to go horribly wrong.

"Whitestorm, no!" He heard Lily shriek. _She wasn't supposed to see this._ He thought fervently, but whipped around and saw the boy, holding something sharp in his hand. A knife, he'd recognized it from Lily's kitchen. Whitestorm backed away slowly.

"So that's the way you play, huh?" Whitestorm snarled. "Pretty low, don't you think?" He clenched his fists, raising them against his chest.

"I do what gets the job done. And you're in my way." The twin had a maniacal look of glee on his face as he advanced toward the weaponless Whitestorm.

"You don't have to do this, kid." Whitestorm snorted, but fear glowed in his yellow eyes.

"I think I do." The boy surged forward, knocking Whitestorm to the ground. Whitestorm tried to punch him back, but the boy stabbed the knife into his knuckles instead. Whitestorm yelled in pain and cringed, his fists dropping as blood spurted out. The boy took advantage of his defenselessness and stabbed him. Whitestorm felt a horrible burning pain in his side.

"No!" He heard Lily bawling. His vision clouded and he went down, hard, his face grating against the pavement as everything went black.

 **A/N**

 **Hey, I'm back! This is today's chapter, I'll try and post one on Thursday too. Sorry for the total cliché-ness of this chapter, but I just couldn't wait any longer. Review or favorite, please! If you notice any errors please let me know :)**


	9. Chapter 9: Oh, My Stupid Sister!

**A/N**

 **First of all, I lied. I couldn't wait until Thursday. I wrote the next two chapters in advance and chapter 11 is exciting! About this chapter, before you get confused while reading it, I'll let you know he is still brainwashed, he just remembers in his dreams. He won't think anything of this dream. I wouldn't let him find out that quickly!**

"Whitestorm… Whitestorm…" Something urgently prodded his side. His yellow eyes fluttered open tiredly.

"Goodness, look at you! What in Starclan's name happened?" He saw his mother hovering over him anxiously, and his eyes instantly cleared.

"Snowfur?" He gasped, sitting up. "Didn't you see what happened?" Whitestorm frowned, running a hand over his face. He was still a Twoleg… He looked down at his mother, who looked ridiculously tiny.

"I'm afraid we can't watch you when you're in… this state." Snowfur sighed, her tail flicking to his knee. She looked at her son in concern, her soft blue eyes worried-looking as she stared at her son's cut-open hand. She gently licked the bloody hand, not flinching at all. "What happened, Whitestorm?" She asked again, looking up.

"Some pieces of foxdung tried to fight me. One of the guys, he had a real sharp… rock." Whitestorm decided not to explain what a knife was, not wanting to frighten his mother even more. Snowfur was already distressed, her jaws immediately parting in a wail.

"My poor boy!" She sobbed, burying her furry head into her son's chest. A lump formed in Whitestorm's throat.

"I'm dreaming, aren't I, Snowfur?" Whitestorm whispered.

"You are." Snowfur sniffed.

"We're still trying to find a way to bring you back." His mother looked miserable.

"Don't worry, mom. I might look bad, but I'm ok here. I made a friend, and she's taking care of me. It's not so bad." He said weakly.

"Bad? You could've been killed!" Snowfur's eyes now blazed with fury. "You don't belong over there, with all of those violent Twolegs who stab each other with rocks!" She hissed. "Oh, my stupid sister!" She shrieked, her voice rising in volume, and her snowy fur bushed out in anger. Whitestorm had never seen his mother like this. She was always so calm and sweet.

"I promise you from now on, I'll stay out of trouble." Whitestorm whispered, not wanting his mother to be so angry.

"You better." Snowfur sighed, her anger dropping just as soon as it had started. "You know I couldn't stand it if I lost you a second time." Her tail drooped. Whitestorm wanted to hug his mother close to him, but he didn't want to frighten her with his… largeness.

"Well, that's why we didn't try this on Mosskit." Whitestorm attempted to joke. Snowfur laughed humorlessly.

"She'd probably think it was awesome." Snowfur said bitterly.

"No, she'd probably want to be something cool, like a badger." Whitestorm smiled wryly. Snowfur stared at her son for a heartbeat, her blue eyes with an unreadable expression.

"I just wanted to give you a second chance." She whispered. "I forced you into this, didn't I? I was the one who convinced you that you should be reincarnated." A tiny thread of hysteria was mixed into her voice.

"No, mom. Of course not. It was my decision." Whitestorm said hastily, but thought about it privately.

"I wish your father was here. He'd know what to do." Snowfur whimpered. Whitestorm said nothing, remembering his father's crazy bloodlust after Snowfur had died. His mother hadn't remembered that part of him, just the sweet and overprotective tom who had a tendency to fight. Whitestorm had never really forgiven his father, but he never told Snowfur that. She loved him desperately, even when they were eternally separated.

"But he's not here." Whitestorm said, a little sharper than he intended it to be. Snowfur looked up, hurt. "I mean, you're doing fine on your own, mom." Whitestorm said quickly, wincing. Snowfur slumped.

"I keep on thinking what it'd be like if I hadn't died… It would have changed the whole course of everything. Bluestar wouldn't have become leader; she wouldn't have found Firestar… Starclan—" Snowfur's eyes widened. Whitestorm nodded, his eyes widening as he thought about how intricately they all were tangled in the web of fate.

"Maybe I became a Twoleg for a reason." He offered. "Maybe Starclan wants to teach me something before I become reincarnated." He smiled grimly, his yellow eyes hopeful.

"Or maybe your stupid aunt made a mistake." Snowfur growled, and then met Whitestorm's eyes sheepishly. "Oh, who am I to talk? My sister is wonderful. Everybody makes mistakes." Snowfur sighed.

"That they do." Whitestorm whispered, his voice faint. Snowfur gave him a curious look. "Mom." Whitestorm said suddenly.

"Yes, honey?" She asked, her blue eyes bright.

"Is it possible to reincarnate humans to cats?" He asked. His yellow eyes were frantic and hopeful. Snowfur's eyes narrowed with worry.

"I don't believe so. Not to my knowledge, at least." She smiled in a troubled way. "Why, honey? Have you met somebody special?" She grimaced a little, as if anticipating his answer.

"N-no. It was just a question." Whitestorm couldn't help the blush that creeped up and stained his pale face crimson.

"Oh, Starclan." Snowfur grumbled, her head tilting back.

"She's just a friend, that's all!" He snapped hotly, suddenly feeling defensive.

"Is she the reason you were in this fight in the first place?" Snowfur asked sharply, her eyes suddenly angry. Whitestorm hung his head.

"Honey, it's not worth it. Don't go to all that trouble. This is only temporary, after all." Snowfur said with regret at seeing her son so beat-down.

"That's what I'm afraid of." Whitestorm mumbled, but it was inaudible to his mother.

"What's that, Whitestorm?" Snowfur tilted her head, blinking.

"Nothing, mom." Whitestorm mumbled. Suddenly, a rosy light crept into the tree-filled grove they rested in, and Snowfur's eyes pricked with alarm and a little grief.

"It's time for you to go, son." Her voice was grave. "But promise me this, you'll stay out of trouble." Snowfur bounded forward, resting her chin under her son's.

"I love you, mom." Whitestorm whispered, as the bleeding light crept up higher and the scene around him started to fade.

"I love you too, son." Snowfur whispered, and the words echoed in his ears as he jolted awake.


	10. Chapter 10: Cobwebs

_Beep… Beep… Beep…_ Whitestorm's eyes blinked open and he flinched at the hard fluorescent lights. He'd had this crazy dream… he must've been sick or something. Something about cats and aunts and mothers and badgers and reincarnation…

"Where in Starclan am I?" He gasped, turning his head away from the blinding whiteness.

"A hospital." He heard Lily's voice and relief spread through him.

"What's a hospital?" He asked, his eyes adjusting to see Lily squatted nervously in a plain plastic white chair, staring at him with owlish eyes. Her light brown hair was messy and unbrushed, her eyes tired and hollow, and yet Whitestorm had never been so glad to see her in the short time he had known her. Lily struggled to smile, and Whitestorm knew it was all for his sake.

"It's a place to heal people's injuries and sickness." Lily said, and her sentence was interrupted by a yawn.

"Like a medicine den?" Whitestorm asked. Lily looked puzzled but nodded.

"Sure, a medicine den." She said faintly.

"You look tired. You should get some rest. It can't be all that fun to watch someone sleep." Whitestorm cracked a crooked smile. Lily sighed and let out a shuddered laugh, burying her face in her hands so her hair was knotted in her fingers.

"I've been so worried about you, Whitestorm. I should have done something. I just watched him stab you, like a complete idiot." She laughed bitterly. Her amber eyes were flat and exhausted, and he felt a sudden urge to hug her. Too bad he couldn't even move, really.

"It's not your fault." He said gently. "Besides, if you had tried to intervene he just would've stabbed you too, and that would have gotten us nowhere." He said reasonably, and then hissed in pain as his side wound flared up.

"Are you okay?" Lily gasped as he cringed, his hands clamped around the wound.

"I-I'm fine." His voice broke as he tried to keep it steady, red dots flashing in front of his eyes.

"I'll go get a nurse." Lily said, panicked, and she got up quickly, already racing to the door.

"No, really, I'm fine." He gasped, as the pain ebbed away. His eyes flickered down to his injured hand, that he realized with surprised was bound with a thick white wrap. "Cobwebs?" He asked, puzzled, lifting his hand and studying it.

"No, bandages." She corrected him, her forehead crinkling, and she sat back down indecisively. He nodded slowly, and plucked at the cottony material with his good hand. "Well, Robby's plan was to get rid of you. It worked, didn't it?" Lily mused sullenly. Whitestorm shrugged, frowning at the wall.

"I'll always be here to protect you, I promise." Whitestorm said, his eyes flickering over to Lily.

"I don't want you to risk your life for me, though, Whitestorm." Lily cautiously sat down beside Whitestorm, gazing out the dusty window on the far side of the wall. Whitestorm propped himself up on the thin hospital-issued pillow, bracing himself for the pain that would come from the knife wound. When it had faded away, he tentatively reached an arm over Lily's tense shoulders as she grimaced out the window.

"Really, you should get some sleep. You look horrible." Whitestorm said in concern. Lily rolled her eyes.

"Thanks, Whitestorm." She said sarcastically. When Whitestorm opened his mouth to protest Lily curled up beside him with her face buried against his shoulder. Whitestorm watched as she closed her eyes, her arm curled around and tucking under her chin. She fell asleep immediately, a tiny sigh coming from her stilling form. Whitestorm smiled affectionately, pulling the hospital bed blanket around her shoulders and leaning back, feeling the heat emanating from Lily's sleeping form. A nurse burst into the room, her tasteless mint-green scrubs disheveled. She cast a disbelieving look at Lily, who was curled up sound asleep at Whitestorm's side. Whitestorm gave her a brilliant smile, raising his unbound finger to his lips.

"Ssh." He whispered. The nurse gave a strained smile as she glanced at his snow-white hair and his golden eyes, and then turned around and began fiddling with a roll of bandages inside a metal cabinet.

"How's your wound doing?" The nurse rumbled quietly. Whitestorm nodded.

"Fine" He whispered, his good hand fluttering to his wound at the thought. The nurse nodded, picking up a syringe from the cabinet and checking the label. Then the nurse turned around, gesturing for Whitestorm's arm. He obliged, and the nurse stuck the needle into his pale skin. Whitestorm tensed up as it stung, but when the syringe was pulled out the pain was gone. The nurse left the room then, carrying the empty syringe with her. Whitestorm closed his eyes, listening to Lily's steady breathing. A peaceful expression settled over his pallid features, and he drifted off into thought.

He was thinking about nothing in particular- just wondering about what his old life must've been like. Lily thought he was some kind of savage; he slept on moss and ate berries and practiced fighting. Whitestorm couldn't blame her, really. Compared to her luxurious and ridiculously advanced world, he must seem pretty simpleminded.

Even though he might not enjoy eating vegetables for food or might not know what a fork was, he knew that he would do anything to protect Lily, and he was willing to take down that red-haired kid to do it. He might get his memories back sometime, but for now he focus on doing everything he could to fix Lily's life, one piece at a time, just as she was fixing his.


	11. Chapter 11: We Have To Run Away

**A/N**

 **Get ready for an exciting chapter! (At least, it was exciting for me)**

Whitestorm looked at the pelt-metal contraption sitting in the corner of the hospital room with distaste.

"No way am I getting on that thing." He mumbled, shifting backwards in the hospital bed.

"I'm afraid you have no choice." The nurse said, looking rather grumpy. Then again, it was 6:00 in the morning. Lily stood near Whitestorm's bed, a hand on his pillow and the other hanging limply at her side.

"Fine." Whitestorm sat up with a grimace, and Lily rushed to support him. He was helped into the wheelchair, and he sat down with an undignified grunt.

"How long do I have to be wheeled around in this thing?" Whitestorm grumbled, running his unbandaged hand along the wheelchair's arm.

"Until the wound heals." The nurse replied, and looked out the door. "Honey, your parents are here." She told Lily. Lily gave the nurse a strained smile and turned to Whitestorm, chewing her bottom lip.

"What's the matter?" Whitestorm asked, fiddling with the wheels of his wheelchair. Lily shook her head as her parents entered the room, looking rather hurried and distant.

"Come on, honey. You need to get home and change out of these clothes." Her mother gestured to the same clothes Lily had been wearing two days ago.

"Okay." Lily said, quickly hugging her mother and turning back to Whitestorm, grasping the handles on the back of the wheelchair. Her parents exchanged a glance.

"We need to talk to you, Lily. In private." Her father looked meaningfully at Whitestorm. Lily's brow creased, but she shrugged carelessly.

"O-okay." She stammered, her hands reluctantly losing their grip on Whitestorm's wheelchair. Her mother grabbed her hand and her father ushered them out of the hospital room. Whitestorm's curiosity piqued. For sure, they would be talking about him. After all, he almost got their daughter killed. He stood up with a grimace, abandoning the strange wheelchair-thing. He needed to be silent, not with wheels squeaking every inch of the way. He slowly re-opened the door, sliding out carefully after investigating the empty and pristine doorway.

He heard low, angry voices and followed them, his bare feet moving silently on the floor boards. He caught a glimpse of a red-faced Lily and her parents, huddled together with scowls on their faces as they whispered urgently. "How could you?" Lily spat, her voice rising. Whitestorm quickly slid behind a bend in the wall, his yellow eyes wide as he listened.

"Honey, we had no choice." Her mother whispered soothingly, and Lily said

"Don't touch me! Don't!" Lily let out a strangled sob and Whitestorm's heart ached to comfort her.

"John Whitestorm doesn't exist, Lily." Mr. Malarke growled, his voice low and crackly with emotion.

"Why would you lie to us? Is he an escaped convict or something? Some secret boyfriend of yours?" Mrs. Malarke had tears in her voice. _Boyfriend._ Whitestorm recognized that word.

"Mom, he's not my boyfriend! God! And he's not a _convict!_ He's an amnesiac, ok? I'm helping him out because he can't remember a flipping thing about the past fourteen years of his life and I was worried he would get himself killed! Is it so hard to be compassionate for once? You're the one who always told me to help those in need!" Lily was shouting now, and Whitestorm didn't have to strain to hear her. Lily started to cry, and Whitestorm heard Lily's mother make a noise in the back of her throat.

"He nearly got you killed, Lil. I was worried about you." Mrs. Malarke said angrily.

"He didn't almost get me killed! I was the reason he got stabbed! He was protecting me!" Lily shouted.

"Ever since that boy got here you've been acting crazy!" Mr. Malarke shouted back. "You're lucky we even decided to pay his hospital bill!" His voice dropped.

"That's what this is about? Money? You called the Child Services because you were worried about _money?"_ Lily sobbed, her voice strangled and hysterical.

"I called the Child Services because I was worried about you! That kid needs help, Lily! He's messed up!" Lily's father shouted.

"He's not messed up, dad! He doesn't remember anything, that's why! How would you feel if I found you in my backyard and decided to call the pound just because you couldn't remember how to eat casserole?" Lily screamed.

"That's enough, Lily! He'll be in good hands, now. He will get the help he deserves." Lily's father was whispering again, but his voice was throbbing with anger.

"Augh! He's not MENTAL!" Lily shouted, and there was a harsh slapping noise.

"Don't you dare slap your father!" Mrs. Malarke shrieked. There was a flurry of footsteps and Lily burst out from the corner, running straight into Whitestorm. He cringed as she connected with his side, and Lily also grimaced. Her face was splotchy and tears were running down her cheeks.

"We've gotta go, Whitestorm." Lily sniffled.

"Are you okay?" Whitestorm asked in concern. She nodded, hastily swiping at the snot and tears gathered on her face.

"They're coming." She cried quietly. "We have to run away." Her normally gentle amber eyes were wide with fear and determination. She grabbed his wrist and together they ran down the hallway, Lily's parents in pursuit. They turned down the winding hallways, shoving past nurses with IV bags.

"Stop those kids!" Mr. Malarke shouted from behind them.

"Faster, Whitestorm!" Lily gasped as they ran past a nurse that took a swipe at them.

"I'm trying!" He panted, but his side was burning and the corners of his vision were flecked with millions of tiny red dots.

"Quick, in here!" Lily quickly threw open a door that read _Janitor's Closet._ They slipped inside, their hearts hammering in unison. The flurry of footsteps that pursued them ran past, and Lily whimpered in relief. There were so many things Whitestorm wanted to say, but he couldn't because his mouth had gone dry. "I'll get you out of here, Whitestorm. I promise." Lily breathed, as they huddled together in the dank darkness of the closet that smelled of chemicals and burning rubber.


	12. Chapter 12: It's A Figure Of Speech

They stayed huddled in the darkness for a few minutes, but if felt like forever. Finally, no noise came from the hallway outside the door, and Lily slowly opened the door.

"Fresh air." Whitestorm gasped, and then sneezed. Lily smiled, but it didn't reach her eyes.

"Hey, I've seen people do this in movies." Lily said, and ran across the hallway to a _Storage_ closet.

"Movies? Those moving pictures you were talking about?" Whitestorm asked. Lily nodded as she shut the door behind them, rifling through a rack of pastel-colored scrubs. "What are you doing?" He asked quizzically, watching her checking the sizes on the tags.

"We," she said, holding up a ridiculous rosy pink scrubs outfit, "are going to disguise ourselves as nurses." She smiled in the darkness. Whitestorm rolled her eyes.

"Right, we won't look inconspicuous at all." He muttered. Lily just shoved a pale blue outfit at him.

"I'm not looking." She muttered, turning around and shielding her eyes.

"Relax; you've already seen me naked before." Whitestorm chuckled, but proceeded to take off his hospital gown and shove on the scrubs. Lily grimaced,

"Don't remind me." She shook out the pink scrubs once Whitestorm had changed and gestured for him to turn around. He did so, staring humorously at the wall. "Done." She said.

"You know, pink's a nice color for you." He said, hiding a smile.

"Don't joke, Whitestorm. I'm doing this for you." Lily sighed. She rifled in her purse, and pulled out a pair of generic, black, unisex sunglasses. "Put these on. Your eyes freak people out." She ordered him.

"Thanks, Lily." Whitestorm said sarcastically, and looked at the sunglasses.

"You put them over your eyes." Lily offered helpfully. She took the sunglasses and shoved them over his face.

"Woah, everything is darker." Whitestorm blinked rapidly.

"They're for sun protection." Lily informed him.

"Why would I need to wear sun protection inside a weather-proof building?" Whitestorm tilted his head.

"Oh, shut up." Lily punched his shoulder good-naturedly. He grumbled. Lily grabbed her street clothes and stuffed them down the neck of her scrubs, then flattened them so they only bulged a little. "Ok, let's go." Lily said, peering out the door as she opened it a crack. The two stepped out slowly, and looked both right and left down the hallway.

"Now, walk down the halls like you own the place." Lily said nonchalantly.

"But I don't own this place, it's probably owned by the government." He said seriously. Lily had discussed the 'government' with him when he had overheard the nurse mumbling about politics.

"It's a figure of speech." Lily said, and starting walking briskly down the hallway. Whitestorm trotted to keep up, his nose crinkling as his side wound protested. "Ok, let's see. Admission's desk… burn ward… ER… Exit!" She scanned a navy blue directory that was adhered to the wall beside the elevator. "It's on the first floor, obviously. Let's take the elevator." Lily said.

"An elevator…?" Whitestorm looked embarrassed.

"It takes you up and down a building. It's like you step into a closet and it moves." Lily tried to explain. She punched in the down arrow button and stood back to wait, her arms crossed over her chest.

"Okey-dokey." Whitestorm nodded, nervously looking over his shoulder. She patted his shoulder and he gave her a tight smile. The elevator doors opened and a balding man with a tight suit walked out, giving the two teens a strange look. "Y'know, they probably don't get fourteen/fifteen year old nurses every day." Whitestorm chirped as soon as the man was out of earshot.

"Oh, hush." Lily rolled her eyes, pulling him into the elevator behind her. He felt the ground lurch beneath him as soon as the doors had closed and Lily had punched "1" on the short panel of buttons.

"Oh, Starclan!" He gasped and clung to Lily's shoulder. She laughed.

"It's safe, I promise. The feeling may take some getting used to." She looked up at his scared face, her amber eyes amused. As soon as the lurching stopped and the doors slid open with a _ding_ he rushed out and felt relieved to be on sturdy ground again. "Okay, exit's that way." Lily pointed to a door on the far right, where glowing red letters spelled out EXIT.

"Got it." The walk down the hallway felt like forever, and Whitestorm was bracing himself for the moment they would get caught. When they shoved open the glass doors and no one stopped them, his shoulders drooped in relief.

"Hm. Where to, from here?" Lily asked. Whitestorm shrugged.

"I sincerely have no idea." He answered.

"Um, ok. I'm going to see if my parents are home yet, maybe I can sneak into my room and get some money." She told him.

"How far away is that?" He asked. Lily didn't answer; she was staring at some bikes in the bike rack at the hospital front. "You're not seriously thinking about stealing some bikes?" Whitestorm laughed. "I don't even know how to ride one." His smile faded when Lily didn't answer him.

"Let's go see if they're locked up." Lily whispered, and pulled at his elbow.

"Um, Lily, we're probably already in trouble for running away. You want to be arrested for stealing a couple of bikes, too?" Whitestorm tried to reason with her. Lily gave him a long, hard look before she threw her hands up in surrender.

"Fine, let's go walk a couple of miles! Yeesh!" She growled. Whitestorm smiled, and threw an arm around her shoulders.

"Now, I know how much you love to commit crime, but you don't have to think of everything for me." Whitestorm said calmly. Lily scowled and punched his shoulder playfully.

"Now, when we get there, how about I break in instead? It's legal for your own parents to keep you prisoner, but not a random kid they sent the Child Services after." Whitestorm smiled.

"Whitestorm, but they could call the cops on you if they saw you!" Lily gasped. Whitestorm shrugged.

"I just don't want you to get caught, Lil. I'd rather be arrested." Whitestorm said truthfully. Lily beamed and gave him a quick kiss on the cheek. Then she stumbled backwards, her eyes huge and her cheeks red. Whitestorm blinked slowly.

"I-I'm, oh my God, I'm so sorry. I don't know what came over me." Lily stammered, wincing and not meeting his eyes.

"What was that called?" Whitestorm grinned.

"A kiss." Lily said softly.

"Then let's try that again." Whitestorm's smile got even bigger, and as they stood there in front of a hospital wearing multicolored scrubs, they kissed.

A/N

Awww! Usually I hate writing romance but that was adorable. I'm gonna be gone on holiday from tonight to Sunday afternoon, but I promise I'll post two more chapters when I get back. Thanks so much for reading this far, guys! I love all this support. Favorite and review, and the chapters will keep coming! If you have any ideas for further chapters or you'd like yourself or another human persona to appear in a next chapter, feel free to ask! Thanks a million!


	13. Chapter 13: Keep Her Safe

"So, you ready?" Lily asked softly, her hands clammy with nervousness.

"I'll be fine, I promise." Whitestorm reassured her, his hand meeting hers and giving it a gentle squeeze. They stood for a moment and watched Lily's house, where the only light on was upstairs and glowed softly in the dusk. Whitestorm's hand loosened its grip and he ducked his head, loping up to the back door.

The grass was wet from the morning's rainfall and he felt the hems of his scrubs get heavy and soggy. He wished for not the first time that he had something less flashy than a pair of blue scrubs, but he knew it was the only way they could have escaped the hospital in the first place. Whitestorm looked in the door window, but saw no movement save for the hands of the grandfather clock next to the painting on the far wall. He tried the key Lily had given him, the silver metal warm in his hand, and the doorknob gave a soft click. He entered quietly, his heart hammering loudly in his chest. He padded softly through the kitchen, where the looming silver appliances sat in abandon, and rounded the stairs. Cringing at each creak of the wooden steps, he almost sighed in relief as he arrived at the top. He trudged through the hallway and entered Lily's room, his yellow eyes glowing in the darkness.

Its familiarity calmed him, and he had to force himself not to curl up in the soft blankets and fall asleep. His eyes scanned the room's contents, searching for the 'piggy bank' Lily had described to him.

"It's on the desk." A voice came from the doorway. Whitestorm jumped, hit his head on the windowpane, and cursed.

"Foxdung!" He held his head gingerly and turned around, warily eyeing Zach, who leaned against Lily's doorframe with an unreadable expression and crossed arms. He was wearing PJ's already, but his face was alert and passive, as if he had been waiting for Whitestorm all along.

"That's what you're looking for, right? The money." Zach spoke again, blinking slowly as his brown eyes bore into Whitestorm.

"Y-yeah." Whitestorm stammered, his gaze flickering down to his sneakers. (They happened to be Zach's hand-me-downs.) Zach entered the room, his steps unhurried, and grabbed a large ceramic pig from the desk. He handed it to Whitestorm slowly, and his eyes looked a little sad.

"I heard my parents talking. They're out, for now. At the police station. You should hurry. They'll be combing the place in a half hour." Zach told Whitestorm, his brown eyes staring past Whitestorm and out the window. The brown irises of his eyes glinted in the dusky light filtering through the window. He turned back around sharply, and Whitestorm flinched as if he would hit him. Instead, Zach gave a wary smile. "Wait here." Lily's brother said, and slipped out of the bedroom. Whitestorm, dumbfounded, stood holding the piggy bank close to his chest. He continued to stare at Lily's doorway until Zach returned, tossing Whitestorm a pile of clothes. "You won't make it far wearing those." He gestured to Whitestorm's scrubs with a tan-skinned hand.

The snowy-haired boy nodded speechlessly, holding the pig in one hand and the clothes in the other. "You can change in the bathroom." Zach said, his voice quieter. Whitestorm's brow furrowed. He was still confused. He thought for sure Zach would beat Whitestorm to a pulp.

"Why are you doing this?" He asked quietly. Zach sighed and pressed a fist to his mouth, silent for a few seconds as he mulled over his answer.

"My sister's wanted out of here forever. She's been bullied for so long, and I swear she was so close to giving up on life." He finally said, his voice heavy with emotion. "When she met you, I hadn't seen her smile so much in years." He looked out the window, dropping his fist to his side. "You make her happy, John. Keep her safe." Zach blinked hard, and Whitestorm thought he could see a glimmer of tears in the normally stoic boy's eyes.

"I will." He vowed. He felt a surge of affection for the protective, older boy. Zach nodded, and without another word he slipped from the room, his shoulders hunched against his plaid flannel pajamas. Whitestorm stood there, still taking in Zach's words. _You make her happy, John. Keep her safe._ His hands trembled and he quickly changed into Zach's clothes, relieved to finally be out of the scrubs. He drank in Lily's room for what he felt would be the last time and finally turned to go. Holding the piggy bank with reverence, he padded downstairs, through the lonely kitchen, and out the door. Lily stood there, waiting in the glow of a flickering street lamp, and Whitestorm saw she had changed back into her street clothes. Her eyes lit with surprise as she saw he was wearing some of Zach's old clothes, a pair of jeans and a T-shirt that said 'June's Music Festival.'

"I see you met my brother." Lily said softly, stepping closer to Whitestorm. Whitestorm handed her the piggy bank.

"He told me to keep you safe." Whitestorm said, choosing not to tell her about the part that he made her happy. She would probably get all defensive. Whitestorm looked at her face, and he saw that Lily's eyes were puzzled.

"He said that?" Her head tilted up.

"Yeah." Whitestorm said uncomfortably, his gaze dropping back down to the piggy bank that leered at him with a ridiculous painted smile.

"Now I wish I had told him goodbye." Lily sighed, hugging the pink piggy bank close. Her amber eyes flickered up to the glow in the window, as if Zach would pop out of the curtains and wave at her.

"I'm sure he knows you would have if you could have." Whitestorm consoled her, remembering the emotion in his voice as he talked about his sister. Lily nodded solemnly, and after a few silent seconds, suddenly smashed the piggy bank between her hands. Whitestorm jumped back, shocked, as pieces of ceramic flew across the perfectly-trimmed lawn. Lily cradled rolls of dollar bills in her hands, amid the wreckage of the pig. "Oh." Whitestorm resisted laughter as he realized the piggy bank was meant to be broken.

"All these years. Christmas and birthday money, money from chores, babysitting money. I've saved up for my freedom." Lily said, her eyes dark as she lightly touched the dollar bills. She brushed off the sharp shards of ceramic, and tucked the money in her jean pockets. "I'm glad Zach gave you those clothes. I was afraid we would have to raid Goodwill or something." Lily smiled humorlessly.

"What's a- oh, nevermind." Whitestorm shook his head, not wanting to ruin the moment with his constant curiousity.

"I'm hungry. Let's go get something to eat." Lily said, nudging his shoulder as her amber eyes brightened again. Whitestorm's stomach growled in agreement, and they both laughed for real.

 **A/N**

 **I'm back! I'm afraid I have busy weekends. Next weekend, Thursday-Sunday, I'm going to Chicago for my cousin's wedding. The weekend after that I'm spending six days at my grandparent's because my parents are participating in Ragbrai. (No wifi there, as stated before.) Then two weekends after that I'm spending a week on vacation with my family. Gah! I will try to keep on posting but they will be sporadic, I'm sorry to say. I really hope you're enjoying my story so far! As said before, you can give me ideas or people to use in further chapters. Favorite and review, I read all your reviews. (They make me smile!) :)**


	14. Chapter 14: Faster Than A Forest Fire

Lily glanced at her phone.

"There's a SuperGo at the next block." Lily told Whitestorm as he complained about his hunger again.

"What's a SuperGo?" Whitestorm snorted.

"They sell things like car fuel and food. Basically emergency stuff." Lily said. "It's called a 'gas station.'" She fondled the ends of her light brown hair.

"Speaking of cars, are we going to literally walk everywhere? We'll get caught within seconds if we go as slow as we're going right now." Whitestorm said nervously.

"We'll be fine for now. Maybe someone'll be nice and hitch us a ride." Lily said optimistically.

"Yeah, I heard hitchhiking is a great way to stay safe on the lam." Whitestorm said sarcastically.

"Oh, be quiet. You only know about hitchhiking because that nurse snuck you some magazines they sell at the front desk with watered-down coffee." Lily scowled. She looked at Whitestorm, suddenly surprised. "Oh, I totally forgot! How's your side?" She asked him. Whitestorm shrugged.

"Only hurts a little. As long as we don't start leaping off rooftops I'll be fine." He reassured her. Lily rolled her eyes.

"I'll keep that in mind, Whitestorm." She turned, her sneakers scuffing on the crumbling sidewalk. "Up there." She pointed at a squat white building with a neon sign that read _SuperGo!_

 _"_ Ok." Whitestorm said, and wondered to himself what kinds of food a SuperGo sold.

"We should have brought a backpack or something. I feel weird, carrying rolls of twenties in my pockets." Lily said, her voice trembling. Whitestorm threw an arm over her shoulder.

"Hey, we're not getting mugged. You got me, remember?" He smiled warmly.

"Guns beat fists, Whitestorm." Lily said bitterly, casting a suspicious look her shoulder at a squirrel.

"Do you think we'll be recognized?" Whitestorm asked as they entered the parking lot of the SuperGo.

"Maybe." Lily said darkly. "Gossip in this town flies faster than a forest fire."

"Thanks for the reassurance, Lil. I greatly appreciate it." Whitestorm said sarcastically. Lily rolled her eyes.

"C'mon, let's get our food and maybe a phone charger and a backpack." She said. Whitestorm nodded and they entered the SuperGo, the door jingling merrily. Lily pulled Whitestorm across the tiny shop, torward an aisle full of granola bars and candy. Lily looked fervently at the bored-looking teenager at the cash register, who sported a long black braid and a nametag reading _Fern._ "Okay, I'll get the food. Try and find some bottled water." Lily told Whitestorm. He nodded and padded across the shiny tile floor, peering over the identical glass doors that held numerous kinds of sports drinks and sodas. His gaze caught a six-pack of _Mountain Springs_ water, and he opened the glass door to a refreshing rush of cool air. He grabbed the waters, standing on his tippy-toes to reach them. He walked back over to Lily. "Okay." She said. Her arms were full of granola bars and plastic packages of dried fruit, among other things Whitestorm didn't recognize. She also toted a small blue backpack and an overpriced phone charger in a plastic case. "I think we're ready." She said.

"Geez, you shop fast." Whitestorm ogled her stash of food.

"Yeah, well." Lily shrugged. "I also pack fast." She grinned, but it didn't really reach her eyes. Her phone chimed and she grunted, her arms full of things and unable to reach it.

"Here." Whitestorm took the food packages, backpack, and phone charger from her. Lily smiled gratefully and pulled her phone from her pocket. Horror lit her face immediately. "What is it? Your parents?" Whitestorm asked urgently, concerned.

"No." Lily squeaked. "Th-they've issued an Amber Alert." Her face was ashen and she stared at the phone with wide terrified eyes.

"Wait, what's that?" Whitestorm frowned.

"They think you've kidnapped me, and they've told the whole state about it." Lily whimpered. Whitestorm's yellow eyes widened with shock, and he snatched the phone from her. A picture of Lily and her description were listed alongside a description of Whitestorm, but no picture.

"That means everyone got it?" Whitestorm gulped. Lily's gaze was transferred to the cashier girl, whose phone had also chimed. She reached to grab her phone, but Lily stopped her with a shout.

"Ma'am! I-I'd like to purchase these!" Lily blurted, and pulled Whitestorm alongside her. Fern arched an eyebrow, smacking her blue raspberry gum. The black-haired teenager cast a longing look at her phone but sighed as Whitestorm unloaded the various objects.

"You going somewhere?" Fern snorted as she checked out the granola bars, phone charger, and backpack.

"A hiking trip. A long one." Lily mumbled. Whitestorm nodded overenthusiastically.

"What's the phone charger for, then?" Fern eyed it.

"I lost my dad's, so he wants a new one." Whitestorm quickly lied. Lily gave him an encouraging smile. Fern shrugged and bagged the objects, handing the white plastic sack to them.

"Have a nice day." She muttered flatly, and then looked at her phone.

"Quick! Run!" Lily hissed, shoving Whitestorm out the door as she grabbed the loaded sacks.

"Hey, wait a minute!" Fern cried as she read her phone, her hazel eyes huge as they realized who the yellow-eyed boy and the brunette girl were. Lily and Whitestorm took off through the heavy glass doors, their huge eyes afraid as they heard Fern get up, shouting. Their sneakers furiously churned at the pavement as they sprinted across the parking lot, the black-haired cash register in pursuit.

"We," Lily wheezed, "could really use a getaway car." She hoisted the sack further up her arms as she ran, and it thumped rhythmically against her shoulders. Whitestorm's mouth had gone dry with fear, so he didn't answer. "I think we lost her." Lily gasped as she quickly peered over her shoulder, and she nearly tripped over a pothole in the road but Whitestorm caught her. Whitestorm looked back too, stopping as he saw no sign of Fern. "What are we gonna do, Whitestorm?" Lily groaned. "We can't run away." She fell to her knees on the pavement, and buried her face in her hands.

"Maybe I should turn myself in. I could say I kidnapped you, and you'll get off free." Whitestorm offered bravely. Lily looked at him with aghast.

"No way!" Her amber eyes were wide and distressed.

"Maybe we should hitchhike, then." Whitestorm laughed bitterly. Lily looked at her phone and Whitestorm saw a flicker of a plan in her eyes.

"I think I know what we should do." Lily whispered.


	15. Quitting For Now

I'm sorry to my followers and reviewers awaiting the next chapter, but I'm afraid I need to quit this story for a while. I know what to write but I don't enjoy writing it anymore. I don't have any inspiration to continue. Again, I apologize bunches! Maybe I'll continue this at a later time when I have more time and more energy to write, but I'm busy with training for cross country and the last weekends of summer vacation are stocked with just that- vacations!

With regrets- nikkiandfranklin


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